


Dirty Little Secret

by A_Million_Regrets



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cryy, Don't read this if you're having a bad day already, Heavy Angst, M/M, hope you cry, it does have a happy ending though, love writing angst man, muahahaha, so like don't worry too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23239351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Million_Regrets/pseuds/A_Million_Regrets
Summary: There he was, sitting huddled next to his beautiful, absolutely perfect wife, looking calm and happy and peaceful and like he hadn't fucked up Dan's entire fucking life, like he had never crushed Dan's heart under his feet.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	Dirty Little Secret

_**You're writing lines about me; romantic poetry** _   
_**Your girl's got red in her cheeks, 'cause we're something she can't see** _

~*~

Dan's shaky fingers coiled around the slippery bottle of whiskey, trembling hand lifting it towards his benumbed lips. Someone whispered seductively in his ear, lips besmeared with red lipstick brushing against his earlobe. As if in a drug-induced trance, Dan nodded and smiled without even knowing what the person had said. Vision blurry and head spinning, he clutched the bottle tighter, taking long gulps. He felt the liquid slide down his throat and burn through his stomach like a fiery fire.

Loud, screechy music played in the background like the screams of a banshee, and the whole room was packed with people, drunk and laughing, with flushed cheeks and wide-eyed smiles. Food and drinks and laughter were in abundance, and the dingy, crowded room was filled with the thick scent of cigarette smoke and sex, making Dan lightheaded and dizzy.

Someone cracked an unfunny joke, and peals of joyful laughter rang in Dan's ears. He didn't hear the joke, but he burst into boisterous laughter, slapping his knee, and cackling so hard that his stomach hurt and his heart ached. He controlled himself and stopped before it turned into unstoppable sobs.

Dan was surrounded by his friends, smiling, laughing, talking . . . He laughed at all the right places and teased Louise and smiled at PJ and did everything he could to feel a little less like shit. But it was just so loud. It was so fucking loud. His friends and the party and the music and the laughter and . . . and everything! So fucking loud but all he could feel was silence. A bone-deep, mind-numbing silence that made him chug more and more whiskey with every passing second, hoping to get rid of it.

Another unfunny, fucking useless joke, and Dan let out a loud laugh, a hollow, empty sound that felt almost foreign, like it was coming from someone not him, from somewhere far far away. His mind was foggy now, almost devoid of thoughts and numb . . . so numb that he couldn't feel his fingers, couldn't even feel his body. His heart squeezed and squeezed, plummeting faster than lightning, and he felt himself choking, a painful lump tightening around his throat. He was sinking, sinking hard and fast, sinking, sinking, sinking-he needed to go, loud-he needed to leave-smoke-so fucking loud-leave-fuckfuckfuck-he was going to cry again and make a fool of himself in front of everyone–

"Dan," Louise murmured, placing a warm hand on his thigh, squeezing tightly.

Swallowing harshly and painfully, Dan turned to her with a bright smile. "Yes?"

Louise searched his face, kind and concerned. "Are you alright?"

Dan chuckled and his heart was breaking. "Of course, I am."

Louise chewed on her bottom lip, glancing at something behind Dan. Dan's eyes widened, and his heart completely shattered, shattered into a million tiny little pieces. He didn't have to look to know who was behind him. He was already aware. He was always aware. His throat closed up and a sharp ringing in his ears made him temporarily deaf. The smell of smoke was still in the air, and the crowd shouted enthusiastically over something someone said, but Dan couldn't hear any of it. It was all happening somewhere far away. He was alone. Alone and aching and worthless and ashamed of himself and-

"Dan," Louise whispered again, her eyes vivid.

"You know," was all Dan said, his eyes wet and pricking with tears. "You know."

"Yes," she accepted cautiously. "I don't–it's not right."

Dan stared at her, his numb fingers tightening around the glass bottle. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry desperately. He wanted to push her away and scream and scream and scream until his lungs burst open. He wanted to break things and tear everything apart. Why? Why should he let everyone be perfectly normal and happy while his entire world was falling apart? _Why_?

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Why?!_

Dan's breathing was heavy, his eyes filling up with unshed tears, heart lying in pieces on the floor. Clenching his jaw, he stood up abruptly and turned around.

There he was. _Phil._

There he was, sitting huddled next to his beautiful, absolutely perfect wife, looking calm and happy and peaceful and like he hadn't fucked up Dan's entire fucking life, like he had never crushed Dan's heart under his feet.

There he was, looking every bit the perfect, caring husband he was.

Through Dan's blurry vision and the numbing ache in his bones, he watched Phil laugh and tuck his wife's hair behind her ear, whispering something quietly and giving her a love-sick, smitten smile.

The bottle in his hands slipped and crashed on the floor, the loud breaking noise piercing through the numbness in his body. Dan's whole body shook, his fingers trembling as he stared with emptiness in his heart.

"What are you doing, Dan?" Chris chided him, laughing as if it was so funny. A few people joined in and it felt like they all knew, they all knew what Dan was to Phil. He felt humiliated, insulted, _used._ Used and thrown like a broken toy.

Phil's gaze flicked away from his perfect fucking wife and met Dan's hurt-filled eyes, a flash of guilt crossing his face. Almost immediately, Dan turned away and stomped towards the hallway, tears spilling down his cheeks, breaths heavy and panting, hands numb and shaking.

He tripped and stumbled and sobbed like a useless child as he rushed into a spare bedroom and slammed the door shut, breathing heavily, fat drops of tears dripping down his chin as he collapsed to the floor, sobbing harder than ever before. He felt like he was dying, like his world was ending and he was helpless and alone and he would never be able to recover from this.

In just a few seconds, the door opened with a small creaking noise, closing with the _click_ of the lock. Dan sobbed violently, and he didn't need to look to know who it was.

Phil dropped to his knees near him and whispered in a soft voice, "Come here."

Dan crawled back to him shamelessly. Even after everything Phil had done, the lies and tears and broken promises, Dan still loved him with every single fibre of his being, and no matter how many times Phil crushed his heart, Dan would still pick up the pieces one by one and return to Phil's warm embrace every single time. He was sick and tired of it, of himself and his feelings.

Strong hands wrapped around him, holding him so tight, it was painful. Dan clung to Phil like he was his lifeline, sobbing and hiccuping into his chest. His entire body trembled with the force of his cries, and Phil held him tightly, burying his hands into Dan's soft hair, placing a hard kiss on top of his head. "Why don't you love me?" Dan choked out in between broken sobs.

Phil's arms tightened around him, but he remained quiet like he always did. Dan knew. Dan knew he was doing the wrong thing again. He knew he was being unreasonable again. He knew he meant nothing to Phil. He knew he was nothing but a mistake. A big, ridiculous, drunken mistake.

He was Phil's dirty little secret.

The thought made him choke on his own tears, and he pulled back harshly, grabbing Phil's face and kissing him even though he knew he shouldn't. Phil kissed back like he always did, gently cradling Dan's face in his hands and kissing him like he was the world's most precious thing.

"Fuck you," Dan sniffed, shoving Phil away. "I hate you," he screamed, punching Phil's chest repeatedly. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!"

Phil stared at him quietly, a deep sorrowful gaze that pierced his heart. "Why do I love you so much?" Dan sobbed, fully wailing now. Humiliation burned through his stomach. He was so pathetic, pathetic and worthless and a complete and utter fool. Always so stupid, always loving someone he could never have. "I don't wanna love you anymore," he hiccuped.

Phil caught his wrists, stopping his punches. Dan struggled against his grip, sniffing loudly. "Let me go! Let me-"

Phil kissed him, deeply and roughly and like Dan meant something to him, something more than a secret, shameful affair. He cupped Dan's jaw and tangled his fingers in Dan's hair, lips as soft as velvet, tongue as gentle as flowers. He pulled Dan close and murmured apologies. He embraced Dan tightly and comforted him with words as sweet as honey.

"Tell me you love me," Dan sniffed quietly, face buried in Phil's neck.

"I love you," Phil murmured. "I love you."

Dan's eyes filled with tears, and he felt like an idiot. He was such a fucking idiot. "Okay."

Phil was silent again, and moments passed wordlessly like it always did. "I'm sorry," Phil mumbled, placing a kiss into his hair.

"Fuck you," Dan sniffed. "I hate you. I hate you and I hate this. I hate it. I hate everything. I hate you!" He was screaming again. His anger was boiling again. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to not exist. "I hate you, you asshole!"

Phil's face was blank, his gaze empty. He lifted a hand and placed it against Dan's cheek, thumb rubbing his cheeks soothingly, wiping away his tears. "You're so beautiful," he murmured in a sad, soft voice.

Dan slapped his hands away. "Don't do this to me," he pleaded desperately, sobbing, "Please don't do this to me. Please don't play games with me."

Phil stared at him for a long time, and then he got up quietly and walked away without another word, closing the door behind him. With a broken sob, Dan's feelings overflowed and he cried for a long, long time.

~*~

It was midnight, and they were sat together in the balcony. The black sky stretched on endlessly above, littered with a billion little lights. The streets below were empty and barren, streetlights illuminating the abandoned roads. Dan sat quietly in his underwear, watching Phil who was sat on the floor in his boxer shorts, a cigarette in his hand. The air smelled of sweat and cum and cigarettes, and there were scattered mugs of cold coffee on the floor. 

Phil took a long drag, blowing out smoke from his chapped lips, tendrils of smoke curling and vanishing into the night sky. “Stop it,” Phil murmured, placing the cigarette back into his mouth.

Dan looked down at his hands, quieter than usual. “Stop what?”

Phil stared straight ahead, blowing out more smoke. “Looking at me like that.”

Dan sighed softly, extending his hand and taking the cigarette from Phil's hand. Phil didn't resist, and Dan took a small drag before handing it back to Phil. “Like what?” he asked.

“You know,” Phil murmured, finally turning to him and meeting his eyes. “You know I don't like that.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Dan replied quietly, staring at the vast, beautiful expanse of the night sky. He felt strangely empty, and his words sounded odd, devoid of emotions and without much weight. _Hollow._

He could feel Phil's gaze burning into the side of his head, piercing, knowing, and Dan felt himself breaking. He could almost taste the cigarette smoke in the air as he asked, “How's Ellie?”

Phil passed him the cigarette and Dan took another long drag before handing it back, pulling his knees to his chest and avoiding Phil's eyes. “She's fine,” Phil muttered silently, smoke flowing out of his lips and curling in the air.

Dan's throat was tight, and he clenched his hands into fists. “Does she know you're here?”

Phil stayed quiet for some time, staring straight ahead. A gentle breeze ruffled Dan's curls, and he swallowed his feelings like he always did. Like he was supposed to do.

“Why would she know?” Phil asked in a quiet voice.

Dan was always alone, but he never felt more alone than he did when he was with Phil. “Right. Yeah.”

Phil turned abruptly and blew smoke directly onto Dan's face. Dan's eyes fluttered close as he shoved Phil back. “Dick.”

Phil leaned over and grabbed his face, placing a rough kiss on Dan's lips. He tasted of smoke and cold coffee, and Dan's hands came up to grip his shoulders, tight and squeezing. “I have to go,” Phil mumbled when he pulled back.

Dan was starting to feel the loneliness creep back in, and a lump grew in his throat. He didn't want Phil to go. “You just came for sex?” Dan didn't mean to say it, but he was so . . . so hurt. Always hurt. Hurt and aching for Phil.

Phil pulled back and settled against the wall, silent as he blew smoke from his lungs, taking drag after drag. Dan remained quiet, eyes a little wet, heart a little broken. 

“Yeah,” Phil said, throwing the cigarette butt into the ashtray. Dan's throat hurt, and his heart was heavy as he watched Phil stand up and leave without another word.

~*~

“Baby.” Phil's hand slid around Dan's waist, head resting on his shoulders, placing kisses on his neck as he yawned tiredly. “Come back to bed.”

“I'm making breakfast,” Dan mumbled, hand stilling above an egg. “I have work today.”

“Mm,” Phil mumbled drowsily, kissing his shoulder repeatedly, body pressed flat against Dan's back. “Don't go.”

It was one of those mornings, Dan deduced quickly. Mornings where Phil was in his good mood, a little more caring and a bit more kinder than usual. During these moments, Dan could almost pretend it was real, that Phil loved him. He could almost convince himself to believe it too. Mornings like these were always Dan's favourite. Mornings which started with gentle kisses on his shoulder and ended with a hopeless ache in his chest and lonely tears in his eyes.

“I can't,” Dan murmured softly. “I've already missed two days this week.”

“Please?” Phil whispered, nuzzling his nose against Dan's neck and hands tightening around his waist, as if scared to let go. For a second, Dan wondered like a fool if . . .

Phil pressed himself close against Dan's back, his erection poking Dan's butt. 

Ah. Of course. It was always just sex. A good fuck that meant nothing. That was it, wasn't it? It always had been.

Dan swallowed painfully, quiet, lips sealed shut. Moments went by, and the silence was too much to bear. “You should leave,” whispered Dan.

Phil's lips stilled, and his movements came to an abrupt halt. “What?

“You should leave,” he repeated with tear-filled eyes and a choking throat, lowering his eyes and inhaling the smell of freshly brewed coffee deep into his lungs. “Ellie will be worried,” he said quietly, turning around to face Phil.

Phil stared at him, something indescribable in his eyes. “Right.”

Dan stared emptily at the floor, not looking up as Phil walked away. He breathed brokenly, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks as he stood there, alone and lonely, letting the silence settle deep in his bones.

~*~

Phil peppered kisses on his naked shoulder, lips tracing Dan's delicate skin. The room was dark, the smell of cigarettes and sex and sweat hanging in the air. “You're beautiful,” Phil murmured against his skin, voice quiet and soft in the silence of the room. His hands tangled in Dan's sweaty hair, his body pressed flat against Dan's back. 

Breathing heavily, Dan swallowed the lump in his throat, arms and limbs aching with exertion. He let out quiet little breaths, laying there in silence. Phil cuddled him close and whispered sweet nothings in his ear, basking in post-coital bliss. His lips traced Dan's shoulder, hands untangling the knots in his curls. 

Minutes slipped by and Dan lost himself in Phil's quiet, whispered words and warmth, sweaty and sticky and smelling of cigarette smoke but . . . but _home._

It was midnight, probably, or was it the early hours of the morning? Dan couldn't quite remember. He could never remember when he was safely curled up in Phil's arms like this. He could never tell if it was day or night or how much time had passed. He could never quite understand or care about the concept of time during moments like this. A millennium could've passed and he would never be able to tell.

Minutes went by slowly, and the orgasm-induced haze began to fade away. Slowly, Dan's capability to think returned, and he realized that Phil was holding him a little too tightly, kissing him a little more desperately than usual. Dan's heart slowly began to drop as he realized it.

There was an odd tension in the room, something that usually didn't exist, something that tasted like goodbyes. His body was rigid and tense as he scooted back against Phil's chest. “Why are you here?” Dan asked through the large lump in his throat.

Phil stayed quiet, so quiet that Dan could almost hear the slow, steady beats of his heart. Phil had been silent all night, evading Dan's concerned glances and worried questions. It made sense. Phil never shared his personal details with Dan. They never talked about anything that mattered, wandering in circles around serious topics but never addressing them directly. Phil once told him that serious conversations were reserved for friends and family, and Dan was neither.

Phil went very still, his deep breathing the only sound in the room. “This is the last time,” he whispered, and Dan's heart plummeted like never before.

~*~

**_I'm sorry but I fell in love tonight_ **   
**_I didn't mean to fall in love tonight_ **   
**_You're looking like you fell in love tonight_ **   
**_Can we pretend that we're in love?_ **

~*~

It wasn't supposed to happen. Phil was a married man, and Dan was just an acquaintance, but a drunken kiss had turned to sex and the sex that one time had turned into sex every few days. Before he knew it, they were spending a lot of time together, and slowly, Dan realized that somehow they had started to have less sex and more conversations. 

Their conversations were always simple and silly, with a few, pointless inside jokes here and there and some naughty words and teasing smiles every few sentences. Still, it was Dan's favourtie thing to do. It was his favourite thing in the entire world.

Dan had never expected to fall in love with Phil. He had never wanted to hurt anyone, and he had promised himself he would never be the person to break Phil's marriage, but sometimes some things happen unknowingly. Longing glances become desperate, aching kisses, and pointless sex become urgent, helpless declarations of love. Bad things happen even when you try to do good things, and both of them realized that a little too late. 

Phil tried to break things off two years after they first started sleeping together. Things were tense for a few weeks, but they fell back into their routine eventually. Unfortunately, that routine didn't last long. Another year passed and Phil told him that his wife had started bringing up her desire for kids, and Phil whispered in Dan's ear that they couldn't keep this up anymore.

Dan was stunned when Phil told him, like it was so easy for him, like he could turn off a switch and all his feelings and emotions would vanish just like that. There were lots of unsaid words between them, some things unseen, unnoticed, eating away at Dan, but he could never find the courage to open the cage and let those words out. He knew he was hoping for too much. Of course, Phil loved his wife. Of course, Dan was just a good fuck and nothing more. Ellie had always been Phil's priority, and Dan was just a dirty secret he'd rather bury somewhere deep without anyone finding out. Of course. He should've known.

Dan wasn't a saint. He knew what they had been doing behind Ellie's back was disgusting. He _knew_. He knew he was a terrible person. A liar, a homewrecker, but he'd rather be a homewrecker than lose Phil entirely.

Phil broke up with Dan three months ago, and the last time Dan had seen Phil was two and a half months ago at that party. Phil hadn't contacted him even _once_ after that, and Dan's days were filled with thoughts of Phil and tears. He cried a lot these days, wearing Phil's T-shirt and hugging the teddy bear Phil had given him on his birthday. Louise called every once in a while to check in on him, and Dan pretended to be fine, cracked a few jokes and laughed before hanging up with a blank face and staring emptily at the cream-coloured walls. Silence was always so loud in those few, quiet moments.

Some days were better than others. Sometimes, he managed to get up, get dressed and make something to eat. Other days, he stayed in his bed all day and sobbed into his pillow.

It was one of those days, one of those bad days, and he was staring up at the ceiling, eyes blank and empty, tears dripping and dripping and dripping down the side of his face. There was a deep, crushing weight on his chest, a feeling of utter hopelessness. Nothing felt worth it, and life felt like too much.

There was a knock on his door, and Dan didn't even notice it. He was lost in his memories, memories of Phil grabbing his waist and peppering kisses on his back, hands tangling in his hair, kissing down the length of his spine, tickling him, making him laugh like no one else had ever done.

Three consecutive knocks sounded, and Dan sniffed, lethargy grabbing hold of his body as he slowly sat up, wiping his eyes quietly. He got up reluctantly, glancing at his face in the mirror. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, cheeks streaked with tears. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sniffed, wiping his eyes as much as he could as he made his way towards the door. 

Dan's mind was completely vacant as he grabbed the doorknob, thoughts messy and drifting far away. Tiredly, he fully opened the door, eyes lifting from the ground to see Phil standing on his doorstep, looking guilty but oddly hopeful. "Baby . . ." 

It was a simple word, but it sent a twisting swirl of emotions bursting through his body. He didn't think. There was no time for apologies or conversations or fights or _anything_. All Dan knew was that he missed Phil and Phil was here, in front of him, and that was all that mattered. He didn't want to know why. He didn't want to ask. He didn't even want to hope. He just wanted to be in Phil's arms, and he jumped forward instantly, arms shooting out to wrap around Phil so tightly that it was hard to breathe. Phil squeezed him back, warm and smelling of cigarettes as always. 

"I love you. I love you so much," Phil was murmuring repeatedly into his hair, squeezing him. Dan's heart was full and bursting open with joy, and his skin burned as Phil kissed him and kissed him and kissed him forever, peppering desperate kisses down his neck and face and every inch of skin he could reach. "I love you."

The door closed behind Phil, and Dan's arms remained wrapped around Phil for a long time. Sobs and tears and declarations of love permeating the air. "I'll stay with you. I want to marry you. I love you. I'm so sorry," Phil was whispering softly, words filled with an emotion Dan had never let himself notice before. “I'm sorry.”

Dan's throat felt choked, words all tangled and twisted in his mouth. "Ellie?" was all that he could say.

"I-we . . . divorce," Phil blurted quietly. "I love you. I'm sorry. I won't hurt you anymore."

Dan's heart swelled, relief flooding his chest. Phil kissed the top of his head, murmuring reassuring words. "-never leave you. Always be with you. Always . . ."

Dan let himself smile for the first time in a long, long time, closing his eyes and inhaling Phil's familiar smell. Sleepy with exhaustion, he let Phil take him to bed, relieved beyond comprehension as he cuddled closer to Phil and held him tightly, eyes fluttering shut. 

"I love you, Dan," was the last thing he heard before he let exhaustion take him under, content and satisfied for the first time in over three years. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This story is very important to me. I wrote this on the train, while balling my eyes out after a particularly messy break up I had (IT WAS A NORMAL BREAK UP. I'M NOT A HOMEWRECKER!) It turned out better than I expected, especially because I didn't even care what I was writing, it was just raw emotions at first. I hope it was good though and hope you enjoyed it! I'd love to hear what you thought of it! Thank you for reading! Stay safe, stay home and don't go out (because this was written during 2020 quarantine, people from the future) :)


End file.
